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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341369">The Wolf in the Dragon's Grasp</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine'>Tommykaine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The White Wolf and the Blue Dragon [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Anal Sex, Angst, Challenge Response, M/M, Muscular Bottom, Older Man/Younger Man, Original Slash, Yakuza, Younger top/Older bottom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:36:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mashiro is supposed to accompany Aoi to a family celebration, but Aoi has different plans</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The White Wolf and the Blue Dragon [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Banned Together Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Wolf in the Dragon's Grasp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermes_Zeppeli/gifts">Hermes_Zeppeli</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for the Maritombola challenge using this prompt: <a href="https://www.landedifandom.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/tombola11_35.jpg">X</a>, as well as for my partner as a Christmas gift &lt;3</p><p>A friend also wrote a story as a gift for me inspired by this series: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291881">X</a></p><p> </p><p>This story also participates in the Banned Together Bingo using the fill "Gay Sex".<br/> </p><p>EDIT: I fixed the sex scene, I was still recovering from the Holiday meal + wine while writing it the first time orz</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Mashiro was waiting for Aoi to shower and get dressed. His father had not asked for him to escort him, but with the recent threats and attacks from the Kin-Tora Kai clan it was implicitly agreed that he was to accompany him at all times.</p><p>He clenched his right hand, feeling a pang of phantom pain in his fingers. His hand had healed, but the scar on his face would probably never disappear no matter how skillfully the doctor had patched him up. He smiled bitterly as he remembered the excuse he made up the last time he got a videocall from his mother. He didn’t know how much of it she’d believed. Somehow, he always got the impression that, deep down, she <em>knew</em>. How much of it, Mashiro wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. As long as she accepted his money, as long as she and his brother were taken care for, that was all that mattered to him.</p><p>After a good five minutes of standing awkwardly in the middle of Aoi’s bedroom, he crossed his arms behind his back and started to walk around idly. Unlike his father’s house, Aoi’s apartment was modern, a fusion of western and Japanese design. The large bookcase by the door also had two full shelves of books entirely in English. Mashiro knew that some of them were for school, but many were simply classics of foreign literature. Shakespeare and such. He himself knew of some of them by fame more than anything, since he never paid too much attention back in high school.</p><p><em>Not like that would have gotten me anywhere</em>, Mashiro thought to himself, pulling out a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping through the pages. He remembered Aoi’s school did a play of it, and Aoi had been temporarily casted to play Juliet, as his classmates believed his delicate features would allow him to look the part perfectly. Except, as it turned out, the young master was entirely uncapable of acting like a woman. In the end he played Paris instead, Juliet’s misguided suitor who died at the hands of Romeo. A rather gruesome tale, for a story so highly regarded as the height of romanticism.</p><p>Closing the book, Mashiro put it back in its place and continued to wander around, stopping in front of Aoi’s desk. A print of a movie poster hung on the wall, above it. Just a few weeks before it had been Seven Samurai by Kurosawa, a beloved classic, and before then it had been Pulp Fiction by Tarantino, one of Aoi’s favorite foreign moviemakers. The current poster was of a movie called Madame Butterfly. Another tragic tale about love and defying traditions, apparently also based on a popular foreign play. They had watched it together while Mashiro was still recovering, and he had found it both touching and upsetting. Even though Aoi had openly sneered at Cho-cho-san’s naivete, it seemed he too was moved by her tale since he found it worthy enough to display it in his room.</p><p>As he looked down on the desk, his eyes fell on a familiar picture. He picked it up and observed it closely. The boss had the same one set on an altar to honor his deceased wife, Yuki. Aoi’s mother. It was a beautiful photo of her, part of a professional photoshoot taken during their marriage. Her outfit was not fully traditional, her long black hair was left uncovered and partially loose, decorated by a beautiful ornament, and parts of the fabric of her dress were of a sheer white, decorated with glistening snowflakes. In the picture she was holding up an umbrella and her eyes were closed, a focused expression on her face. Even with the makeup, it was impossible not to notice her resemblance to Aoi. He had taken much from her and not just in looks, although he probably would have scoffed at the notion. She had been quieter of course, much more composed and demure, but she was also known to be incredibly stubborn and strong-willed, and rumors said she had been the one to court the boss first.</p><p>As he stared at the picture, Mashiro remembered how grateful she’d been in her last weeks for the fact that he had stayed by Aoi’s side for so long, how she’d stopped him one day when her son came to visit, making him stay behind to talk to him alone for a few minutes.</p><p>The hospital room had felt nostalgic to Mashiro in the most unpleasant way as he awkwardly sat by her bed. He’d been reminded of his mother lying down on a similar bed when her health was worse, his brother Makoto kicking his feet and wailing when the visiting time was over and he had to physically drag him out of the room. Though his mother had eventually recovered, the boss’s wife would have no such luck. Deep down, she probably already knew.</p><p>“You will keep watching over my Aoi, right?” she had asked, taking his hand and grasping on it with surprising force. “If anything happens to me…”</p><p>“Madam, please don’t say such things.”</p><p>“Mochizuki,” she had spoken more firmly, an almost threatening note in her voice, as if to warn him not to dare interrupt her again. Her hand had tightened her grasp and her eyes never left his, as if they were trying to read into his soul, to gauge his every reaction to her words.</p><p>
  <em>If anything happens-</em>
</p><p>Mashiro frowned, putting the picture back on the desk.</p><p>
  <em>-you’ll always be there at his side, won’t you?</em>
</p><p>The guilt weighted on him as he turned away, unable to look at her face. Just the previous night, he had spent the night at Aoi’s apartment.</p><p><em>What a twisted way to keep your promise</em>, a malicious voice whispered in the back of his mind.</p><p>It was useless to feel guilty, he knew it all too well. Feeling guilty hadn’t stopped him last time, nor the time before, nor the countless other times since Aoi brought him there after that night. He was the worst kind of hypocrite, pretending to have a conscience, tormenting himself over it, but at the end of the day he was not strong enough to say no. He could tell himself all sorts of stories about it, he could tell himself that Aoi would get his way one way or another, that what the boss still thought to be his sweet child was in fact some sort of bewitching demon of lust, but the truth was that Mashiro did not <em>want</em> to resist.</p><p>He had always, always put his life on the line for everyone else. He had become a common delinquent and then a yakuza for the sake of his family, ruining his own future to make sure his mother and brother <em>had</em> a future. He had served under two different clans, bowing down to the fearsome Takeuchi Ryuuji and swearing loyalty to him when the Okami-Kai disbanded and his previous boss introduced him to him, recommending him as one of his best men, only for Takeuchi to disregard those words and force him to prove himself to him almost like a newbie before he could trust him. Even so, he had served him loyally and he had protected the young master with his life for years, he had gotten his bones broken and his blood spilled, and in all that time he never, never allowed himself to want anything.</p><p>Had he not been diligent enough, did he not deserve some leniency? He never wanted anything as much as he wanted Aoi, to be by his side as more than just his bodyguard, to touch him and to let himself be touched, to accept his love and to allow himself to love him back. Maybe he was like the foolish Cho-cho-san or the brash and immature Romeo, destined to the same tragic end, but he would keep fooling himself a little longer.</p><p>He heard the sound of footsteps coming closer, trying to sneak up on him, and recognized his young master before he even had to turn and catch him as Aoi leapt on him, making him stumble for a second. Not because of his modest weight, but because he had not expected him to be naked.</p><p>“Weren’t you getting ready to leave?” Mashiro asked, lifting one eyebrow.</p><p>Aoi shrugged, arms wrapped around Mashiro’s shoulders while he crossed his legs behind his large back, a mischievous grin on his lips.</p><p>“I don’t feel like going anymore.”</p><p>Mashiro would have liked to say that the other’s weight and warmth against his body was leaving him indifferent, but that would have been nothing but a bold-faced lie.</p><p>“You told your father you’d go,” he pointed out, to which Aoi rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively.</p><p>“Eh, he’ll forgive it. I don’t feel like having company… not that kind of company, anyway.”</p><p>Aoi’s hand went to his tie, two fingers sneaking in between the silken fabric and the collar of his shirt to loosen it. “I’ve got all the company I need – ” and he started to unbutton his shirt before he even went to undo the button of his jacket “ – right here.”</p><p>Mashiro closed his eyes and sighed. The lingering guilt in the back of his mind told him he should have stopped it, he should have insisted for Aoi to get dressed, but the other smelled so nice right after showering, and his mid-length hair was still a bit damp and disheveled.</p><p>“What will your uncle say?” he asked, shivering as that hand slipped under his half-opened shirt, the warm palm brushing against his nipple.</p><p>“Uncle Seiji will probably be too drunk to even notice. I’ll come over tomorrow and bring him his gift when he’s sober. I’ll even bring him chicken soup for his hangover.”</p><p>That sounded like Aoi had been planning to ditch rather than it being a last-minute decision, so Mashiro sighed again, knowing that meant he had no way to convince him anyway.</p><p>And he couldn’t help but secretly feel glad for it.</p><p>He glanced to the side, towards the large rolled-up futon on the floor. A warm shiver ran down his spine as Aoi spoke against his ear, his warm breath hitting his skin.</p><p>“Let’s have our own private party…”</p><p>Jumping down from him, Aoi grasped on his tie and pulled on it, leading him towards the futon before letting go to help him unroll it. They didn’t bother with bedsheets or pillows, as soon as they had a soft, horizontal surface to lay on, Aoi pushed him down on it. His hands went back to his shirt to undo the remaining lower half of the buttons. Mashiro’s dragon tattoo peeked out on his chest as he lifted his arms to take off his jacket, causing the fabric of his shirt to stretch and pull aside.</p><p>Aoi pulled his shirt off of him as soon as the jacket was gone, tossing it aside and pulling him in closer. Mashiro kissed him passionately, one hand grasping on Aoi’s smooth, soft black hair, the other moving down between his legs. He was half-hard already. Mashiro was not surprised.</p><p>Aoi’s hands went down to unzip his pants, undoing his belt before pulling them down together with his underwear. Mashiro too was rapidly growing hard, and by the time they were both naked their cocks were already almost fully erect.</p><p>“The lube, it’s in my drawer,” Aoi said, getting up to walk up to his nightstand. He took it out and brought it back by the futon, pouring it on his hand and spreading it on his fingers.</p><p>Mashiro did not need to be asked before getting down on all fours, lifting his ass for easier access. It was still quite embarrassing to display himself like that, but when Aoi’s hand went down to grasp on his erection while a lubed finger started pushing inside him, he couldn’t help but gasp and groan out loud.</p><p>There was almost no resistance as two fingers were pushed in together in lieu of the first one, sliding in and out and spreading him apart. He gasped when Aoi curled them up inside him, pressing against his prostate, pushing in and out, Mashiro’s hands grasping hard against the futon. He was used to the insertion by then, but he still couldn’t help but feel awkward about being so exposed in front of him.</p><p>When Aoi’s fingers finally could move inside him with almost no resistance, even after adding a third one, he pulled out and poured more lube in between Mashiro’s buttocks. Mashiro held in his breath as Aoi started to rub his cock between them, gasping and panting in pleasure.</p><p>“I want you, Mashiro,” Aoi told him, hovering over him and holding him by his hips.</p><p>“I want you too,” Mashiro replied, and finally the other moved back and positioned himself to push it in, little by little. He was always careful at first, always waiting for his body to adjust to his size.</p><p>Aoi kept on like that, slowly pushing himself in all the way in. He waited for Mashiro to be completely relaxed before he started to pull out so that only the tip remained, then pushed himself back in, then doing the same again, each time moving a little faster</p><p>Mashiro’s body welcomed him easily, swallowing up his entire length with each thrust. Soon enough they were both panting and moaning as Aoi moved his hips faster, hitting his sweet spot with almost every thrust. He had gotten better with practice, his lover could definitely tell.</p><p>“Mashiro,” Aoi called out, one hand coming down to rest against the futon, the other reaching for Mashiro’s chest to play with his nipples, pinching and rolling each one between his fingers until they were both as hard as his cock.</p><p>Mashiro groaned and moaned out loud as his prostate was hit relentlessy, Aoi’s hand pinching and pulling on one of his nipples, his warm breath hitting his ear as he fucked him hard. It was not gentle anymore, but it was passionate and intense, and Mashiro was unable to hold back from moaning out loud.</p><p>By the time Aoi was about to reach his climax, he had started to fuck him so hard that his hips slapped against his ass with a smacking sound and Mashiro was practically keening in pleasure, every deep thrust threatening to send him over the edge.</p><p>When the last thrust finally brought him to his orgasm, Mashiro clenched his ass around Aoi’s cock, causing him to gasp and cry out loud as he too came right after him, filling him up with a series of fast shallow thrusts while his hand reached around to stroke him to completion, causing him to cum all over the futon.</p><p>Aoi did not let go of him as Mashiro let out one last strangled cry, his ass squeezing Aoi’s cock and milking him dry, until he was completely spent. Then, he pulled out and let himself fall down next to him on the futon, panting heavily.</p><p>Mashiro allowed himself to collapse against the soft fabric, panting heavily to catch his breath. It wasn’t until Aoi moved in closer and nudged him with insistence that Mashiro turned on his back, looking up at the ceiling while Aoi wrapped his arm around him.</p><p>Mashiro held Aoi close to him, feeling the soft weight of his head against his chest, his warm breath against his skin.</p><p>Laying there with him, listening to the sound of his breath and the background noises of the city, Mashiro could almost pretend as if they were two men like any others, just a pair of normal lovers.</p><p>Still, in some ways, Mashiro was almost glad that his life had been the way it was. That it had brought them together in such a way, driving Aoi into his arms, driving him into the arms of his young master.</p><p>He was glad he could hold him like that, feel his warmth, his presence, secretly claim him for himself.</p><p>Even if he knew that moments such as those were like stolen time.</p><p>One day, the boss was going to find out. Mashiro did not know if the man would have it in him to forgive him, after his inevitable initial fury. He had no doubt he would be angered, that he would resent him for betraying his trust. He was afraid that the spot he took so long to secure as one of his trusted men, almost a member of the family, would be taken away from him with no hesitation and no chance to earn it back no matter how hard he tried.</p><p>Aoi always told him that he worried too much, whenever the topic came up. That his father could not control every part of his life, he could not decide who he chose to entrust with his own life, who he chose to always have at his side.</p><p>That he could not tell him what to do in the privacy of his apartment, who he chose to bring there and what he chose to do with them. And that included Mashiro.</p><p>He always sounded so confident. Mashiro wished he could be half as confident, because he wasn’t sure he could believe it could be so simple. Aoi wasn’t stupid, but he was used to getting things his way. Meanwhile, Mashiro knew that life was usually more complicated. Especially for those involved in <em>their</em> kind of life.</p><p>If things had gone differently for them, if they could have had a normal life, what would things have been like for them?</p><p>“Say, Aoi…”</p><p>The other looked up at him, tilting his head slightly.</p><p>“Hm? What is it?”</p><p>“What would you do if you weren’t a yakuza?”</p><p>Aoi let out a small laugh. But, when he saw that his expression remained serious, he sat up on his heels and lifted one eyebrow as if to tell him <em>‘seriously?’</em></p><p>“Mashiro,” he said. “Asking me that sort of question, it’s like asking a wolf what it would do if it were a sheep.”</p><p>Mashiro slowly got up as well, sitting cross-legged with his hands on his lap.</p><p>“So you’ve never thought of… doing anything else?”</p><p>Aoi shrugged.</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“To live a different kind of life.”</p><p>Aoi crossed his arms.</p><p>“Different how?”</p><p>Mashiro hesitated, glancing away for a few moments and biting on his lower lip.</p><p>“You know what I mean,” he finally said. “A honest life.”</p><p>Aoi smirked at him.</p><p>“Say, Mashiro, what would you do if you were a carp?”</p><p>Mashiro looked at him in confusion.</p><p>“A carp?”</p><p>“A carp,” Aoi calmly repeated. “What would you do?”</p><p>Mashiro wasn’t sure if the other was making fun of him or not. Aoi was still smirking, but his tone was deadpan serious.</p><p>“I don’t-” he eventually sighed. “I don’t get what you mean.”</p><p>“Didn’t you work hard to get where you are?” Aoi asked, uncrossing his arms and reaching out to touch his shoulder. “You were a civilian once. A small, little koi carp, swimming upstream. You swam and you swam, and then, you finally reached the top and you became one of us.” His hand moved down on his chest, fingers tracing the outlines of his tattoo. “A dragon.”</p><p>Mashiro finally understood. He smiled, though there was a tinge of bitterness in his expression.</p><p>“Would you want to go back to what you were before you became a yakuza?” Aoi asked, frowning a little. “Do you think the golden dragon would choose to turn back into a carp, if he could?”</p><p>“Of course not.”</p><p>Going back to his life from before, with no way to help his family? Not in a million years. But had his chances been different, had he not had to take care of his mother and brother… he didn’t think that was the life he would have chosen for himself.</p><p>Then again…</p><p>“I’m not sure I would know what to do of myself, anyway,” he said with a small sigh. “But you, you could do anything you want. You don’t have to be a yakuza. You said it yourself, your father can’t control what you do.”</p><p>Aoi’s hand moved down lower, on his side, fingers trailing along the back of the blue-colored dragon. Then he withdrew his hand and he looked away, towards one of the large windows.</p><p>“People outside of our world, they’re like ants. Going on with their lives, amassing crumbs, but any time they could get stomped if they’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time,” he told him with a wry smile as he finally looked back at him.  “That’s the way things are, Mashiro. You either get stomped, or you’re the one to raise your foot first. You’re the wolf, or you’re the sheep. The dragon, or one of the carps.”</p><p>He moved in closer then, his hand on Mashiro’s hair, pressing their foreheads together.</p><p>“We’re the wolves, Mashiro. We’re dragons. One day, I’ll take my father’s place. I’ll rule the Tatsu-gumi. And I’ll have you by my side.”</p><p>Mashiro slid his hands around Aoi’s waist, holding him close.</p><p>“Is that what you want?”</p><p>Aoi smirked.</p><p>“It’s what I’ve always wanted.”</p><p>As he leaned in to kiss him, Mashiro thought about his words. He thought about his own family.</p><p>
  <em>You’re the wolf, or you’re the sheep.</em>
</p><p>He kept them away from his life, because he wanted to protect them from it. But he wasn’t sure Aoi could understand that. For Aoi, that way of life was a protection. He could kill first before someone could strike him. He could be the one others feared to cross.</p><p>A dragon… did the koi carp from the legend know what he was doing, or was he simply doing all he could to not be swept away by the current?</p><p>Mashiro didn’t tell Aoi, but he could have climbed rank if he wanted. The boss had offered him to control his own group under him and, if he showed him he could be a good leader, to become his second-in-command one day. But that would have meant leaving his place alongside Aoi. Leaving someone else in his place to protect him.</p><p><em>Even wolves can be hunted, Aoi, </em>he thought as the kiss broke, holding him tightly and stroking his hair, burying his face against his neck and inhaling his scent.</p><p>He would be a dragon, whether he wanted or not, because that was what Aoi needed.</p><p> </p>
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